Part 2

When Chris got home after his visit to the Wells ranch, he parked in the front yard, as usual, and let himself in the front door, as usual, and trudged down the hall passed the dining room to the kitchen, as usual. Then he stopped dead in his kitchen doorway and stood staring at the scene in front of him.

Every burner on the stove had a pot of something sitting on it. Both of the wall ovens were on and he could see pans in them. Every surface in the kitchen was covered with pots, pans and dishes. The double sink was full, dishes in soapy water in one side, clean dishes stacked in the other... and they were *clean*.

Sarah's fine stainless steel cookware that hadn't gleamed since she had been killed five years before sparkled at him, as Nonnie ran the sprayer over them to rinse them and stacked them in the dish-drainer.

Nonnie dressed in a long green corduroy skirt with a white blouse, the sleeves rolled up over his elbows, stood in front of the sink, barefoot. His hair was tied back with a scrap of green velvet ribbon, and one of Chris' large bath towels was pinned around his neck and pinned together in the back at his waist as an apron. He was scrubbing away at the smallest of the fry pans that went with the set, the one that Chris used everyday and had never been able to get the outside of clean.

Chris could clearly see that a good half of the stains he had never been able to get off were already gone. He looked over at Vin who was sitting at the table, his feet propped up watching Nonnie scrub at the pot with a bemused look on his face.

"What's going on?" Chris asked.

"Told him you was stopping at Casey's gramma's to ask about the visit. Went back out to cut the grass in the side yard an' when I got through an' come back in, he had ever one of the burner's goin', both ovens on and was cleanin' ever thing in sight. Think maybe he's a mite nervous. I 'member one a'my foster mom's used ta get like this when she was nervous."

"I most certainly am not nervous!" Nonnie stopped scrubbing at the fry pan's bottom long enough to straighten, turn and glare at Vin. "This kitchen was simply in abominable condition!"

"Uh-huh... and just who are ya plannin' on eatin' two roasts, a turkey, dressing cornbread, biscuits, green bean casserole, corn on the cob, creamed potatoes and sweet potato pie? Cause I know that *you* don't eat hardly anything when yer nervous."

"I am *not* nervous." Nonnie stated again imperiously tossing his head and turning back to the sink.

Chris started to say something but Vin put a finger to his lips to indicate that he should remain quiet.

Seeing the amusement sparkling in the blue eyes Chris shrugged and sat down at the table without saying anything.

Vin started counting silently, holding up his fingers one by one as he did so. He only had four fingers unfolded, when Nonnie demanded, "Well? What did she say?"

Chris turned to look at him, "What'd who say?" He asked innocently.

Nonnie spun around, slinging water from his dripping hands as he planted them on his hips. "You know very well who! Mrs. Wells! Casey's grandmother! Do I get to see Casey or not?"

Seeing the very real anxiety in his face, Chris couldn't tease him anymore. "Yes. Saturday week like you suggested. Ten o'clock in the morning."

Suddenly Chris found himself being receiving a very damp hug as Nonnie grinned and threw his arms around Chris, saying, "Thank you, thank you so much."

Then he was released and Nonnie was back at the sink scrubbing away at the pan again, muttering to himself. "Oh, dear, oh, dear, what am I going to do with all this food?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll have supper. I'll take some to work for lunch tomorrow and I'll invite the guys out tomorrow night to finish it up."

Nonnie smiled at him.

The next morning, when he got up to go to work there was a sketchpad lying on the kitchen table, page after page of detailed drawings of what Nonnie had seen when they had discovered Casey, along with a neatly typed, detailed statement of exactly what he had seen. It was signed Anonymous.

It would be inadmissible in court, but still a great help in identifying and capturing the third man. And there was always the possibility that Nonnie might agree to testify, if they could only convince him to trust them.

Visiting Day

Although he had gotten used to Nonnie sleeping late, Chris wasn't surprised to find Nonnie up and in the kitchen before he got up on the morning that Nettie Wells was supposed to bring Casey to visit the teens. In the relatively short time since the teen had come to live with him, he had learned that when the teen was anxious or nervous, even though he denied ever being so, he cooked and or cleaned. So, he wasn't at all surprised to find that breakfast was already cooked. Platters of scrambled eggs, fresh biscuits, bacon and sausage, a large bowl of grits, jars of apple jelly, strawberry jam, peach preserves and orange marmalade graced the table.

Anticipating the bounty, he had told Josiah, JD, Buck and Nathan to be there for breakfast. He hoped they made it. He knew that even with Vin (the bottomless pit) to help him he'd never eat it all.

The kitchen gleamed. Every pot, pan and dish was in its place and shone brightly. The floor and countertops looked like they had been polished. It hadn't looked this good since before Sarah had been killed. In fact the whole house looked like a professional cleaning crew had been through it.

He raised an eyebrow at Vin, wondering if Nonnie had slept at all the night before.

Vin shrugged. [Couple of hours, I think.]

He heard Buck's old pickup, pull into the yard and with a relieved sigh, took out a stack of plates and put them at the end of the table, then got out the knives, forks and spoons to go with them.

Nonnie threw more bacon in the fry pan.

By ten o'clock when Nettie's old pickup pulled into the yard, Chris was ready to strangle Nonnie.

He'd changed clothes four times since breakfast, wiped every surface in the house down at least five times and taken three different cups of coffee that Chris had dared to sit down unfinished back to the kitchen, dumped them, washed the cups and put them up. Buck had taken to holding on to his cup even when it was empty and JD had a permanently confused look on his face because his sodas kept disappearing. Josiah on the other hand just smiled and handed the prowling teen his cup or glass whenever Nonnie paced too close to him. Nathan [Damn him!] had called to say he couldn't make it. He was having breakfast with Eban's daughter, Rain.

Casey broke away from Nettie the minute she was let out of the pickup truck and ran towards the figure standing on the porch. "Nonnie!" she screamed, holding up her arms to be picked up.

Nonnie abandoned any pretense of decorum and flew down the steps to meet her, catching her up and swinging her around while hugging her tightly. "Casey!"

He settled Casey on his hip and walked towards the truck. "Are you all right? Is she taking good care of you? Are you happy?"

He scowled at the old truck as he approached it. "Is there a car seat in that... vehicle?" he asked stretching to see around Nettie where she stood beside it.

"Yes. Yes. Yes and Yes!" Casey answered happily. "And I love you, too!" she shouted wrapping her arms around Nonnie's neck and giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek.

Nonnie blushed but kissed Casey's cheek in turn.

Vin who had strolled over towards the truck behind them, stepped around Nonnie to hold his hand out to Nettie. "Nonnie only fusses cause he loves her. Case knows that. I'm Vin Tanner."

Nettie took his hand and shook it. "Nettie Wells. Pleased to meet you."

Casey turned to look at Vin and reached for him. "Love Vin, too!" she declared.

Vin reached out to take her and Nonnie let him as he squared off with Nettie, the two sizing each other up.

Nettie seized the offensive. "Do I meet with your approval, young man?"

"Ah, you're one of those," Nonnie said in a knowing voice.

"One of those?" Nettie scowled at him.

"One of those people who see the world in black and white. There are no gray areas... or red, or yellow or blue areas. There is only right and wrong. Although there may be a greater good, there is no lesser evil."

"What's that the lesser evil of?" Nettie demanded, indicting the way that Nonnie was dressed and made up.

"Better a live girl, than a dead boy."

"Why'd anyone want you dead? You're just a kid."

He fixed her with a look, his eyes suddenly seeming very old. "I know things he doesn't want anyone to know... and I have something of his that will prove that what I know is truth. He will kill to get it back, kill me, kill the people that I care about."

Vin had taken Casey away from the confrontation between Nonnie and Nettie, carrying her to the corral to show her the horse that Chris was letting him ride.

Nonnie looked over at them. "She looks good. Seems happy. She'll be safe with you. He doesn't know that she exists. It's better if he never knows."

He sighed and looked down. "It would be best if we had no more contact... at least until I decide what to do... about him... about all this."

"She ain't going to understand that."

His voice was sad when he said, "I'll explain it to her. She's a smart little girl. She understands about danger, about bad men, like the ones that took her... and she's used to minding me. She knows that I love her and when I say that something is necessary to keep her safe, it *is* necessary to keep her safe. She will accept it."

"Can you accept it?"

His expression hardened. "I can and will do whatever I feel is necessary to keep the people I love safe." He paused then added more softly. "I just have to decide what that is."

Nettie reached out and laid a hand on his arm, "Take some advice from an old woman who's lived a long, hard life. There's nothing wrong with asking for help. It doesn't mean you're weak. Everybody needs a helping hand sometime. Larabee's a hard man... but he's a good one, too."

He looked at her for a long moment saying nothing then pulled away and walked off towards where Vin was still standing with Casey at the corral fence. He took Casey from Vin and carried her to a nearby bench, sitting down with her on his lap.

Vin followed him over and propped one foot up on the bench near Nonnie leaning over to listen in on the conversation.

Nettie couldn't hear what was being said but she could tell that Casey was upset by it. Finally the little girl flung her arms around Nonnie's neck and hung on while Nonnie rose and carried her back to Nettie.

Without preamble, Nonnie said, as he handed Casey back to Nettie. "She doesn't really understand why, but she does understand that she can't come back to see us until I believe it to be safe." He reached up to caress Casey's face, "And she does understand that it is *not* because we do not love her but because we *do* love her very much, that we must remain apart for now."

He stepped away. "I have something for you. I'll get it while Vin says his goodbyes."

He vanished into the house as Vin smiled at Casey and said, "We're gonna miss you little'un."

Casey reached for him and he took her for one last hug. "Miss Vin. Miss Nonnie."

"I know... but you know that Nonnie only wants what's best for you. Wants you to be safe an' right now being safe means not being with us."

Casey gave him a small, sad smile, nodding solemnly. "I know. You love me. Nonnie loves me, too. I'll be good for Gramma, and you'll see me as soon as you can." She hugged him hard again. "Bye Vin."

Nonnie came back, carrying a sketchpad. He blushed and held out the sketchpad to Nettie. "These are sketches that I did of Casey while she was with us. I thought you might like to have them."

Nettie took the book and flipped through it, smiling at the pictures of her granddaughter. "Thank you. I'd love to have them."

"You're welcome." Nonnie said then turned to Vin who was still holding Casey. Holding out his arms to Casey he said, "Do you have one more hug, for me?"

"Yes!" Casey said enthusiastically threw herself at Nonnie.

Nonnie caught her without the slightest difficulty and hugged her tightly as she carried her towards the truck.

As Nonnie secured Casey in her car seat, Chris and the others came over to say goodbye to Nettie.

Two weeks later

Chris stepped out of the barn door and looked towards the house. Nonnie as he still insisted on being called, sat atop one of the dormers on the second floor, cross-legged, with a sketchpad on his lap. He looked precariously balanced, yet Chris knew he could sit there for hours. He'd seen him do it. In fact he'd been up there since noon this time and the sun would soon be setting.

He still dressed as a girl. He still refused to cut his hair. They still didn't know his real name, or his exact age, only that that he claimed that he'd be seventeen exactly one month after Vin, to the day. He had so far refused to take his GED, saying that he would wait until Vin was ready, so that they could take it together.

And he still hadn't given them a description of Stephen's killer.

He had proven he could ride the first week at the ranch but when told that if he wanted to ride he would have to muck stalls and tend his own horse he had refused to set foot in a stirrup since. He cooked, quite well in fact, and cleaned furiously when nervous or worried.

He also had nightmares. The first week at the ranch he'd woken the house screaming bloody murder, two or three times a night every night until, Vin had finally told Chris, that if anybody was going to get any sleep, he was going to have to sleep in the same bed with Nonnie. Apparently the nightmares were the reason that they had shared a bed in the beginning of their friendship.

Chris reminded them of the edict against sex between them.

Vin countered with either he trusted them not to have sex or he got woke up, two or three times a night every night for the next year and a half.

Chris suggested therapy.

Nonnie flatly refused.

After the second week, Chris gave up, reminded them one more time that they weren't to have sex and let Vin move into Nonnie's room. He had no idea if they were keeping their promise. Vin swore they were and Chris wanted to believe him.

Vin had been as easy to get along with as Nonnie was hard. He fit right in, pitching in with the ranch work, studying with Nonnie for his GED like he had promised, always ready with a helping hand. He seemed to know what Chris was thinking. Hell, he seemed to know what Nonnie was thinking and acted as a buffer between them.

Chris figured that if it had been just him and Nonnie, he would have strangled the kid by now. He sighed taking one last look at the figure perched on the dormer before turning back into the barn to finish the chores and found himself face to face with Vin.

"He ain't lazy. He just ain't used to this kind of work."

"I never said he was lazy."

"You think it. Like Buck thinks that cause he dresses like a girl, he's some kinda freak."

"Buck's never said that."

"He don't have to. Everything he does 'round Nonnie says it for him." Vin looked back towards the house then swore softly. Throwing down the pitchfork he was holding he headed for the house.

"Vin?" Chris called.

"He's cryin'," Vin threw back over his shoulder and kept walking.

Chris picked up the pitchfork, knowing that Vin wouldn't be back to help finish the chores. When Nonnie was upset about something, he was Vin's first priority. Vin dropped everything and went to see about him. That had become clear almost from day one.

Later that evening, after he and Vin had eaten supper with Nonnie no where in sight, Chris settled on the coach to watch an old war movie that had long been a favorite of his. Vin had uncharacteristically disappeared up the stairs and Chris could only assume that Nonnie was still upset and Vin had gone up to comfort him.

So, he was surprised when Nonnie appeared, silently as a ghost as the end of the movie neared and sat down on the floor near the end of the coach where Chris' head rested on the arm.

After a moment, Nonnie asked, "Have you seen this movie before?"

"Several times. It's a favorite."

"I bet you get all misty eyed at the ending where the hero sacrifices himself for his buddy, dying to save his life."

Chris didn't answer for a moment trying to figure out what to say. He finally decided that the truth was the best answer, especially since it would confirm, Nonnie's guess. "As a matter of fact I do. It's a noble act. Heroic."

"That's exactly what step-father number two used to say. He loved this movie."

"Step-father number two? How many step-fathers have you had?"

"Too many." Nonnie considered for a moment then added, "at least one too many, possibly two too many."

He fell silent and Chris honestly had no idea what to say to fill that silence.

After several minutes Nonnie went on. "I used to tell him that the hero wasn't noble or heroic, only stupid. He said I didn't understand."

"...and did you understand?"

"No."

"Do you understand now."

"No... but I'm not so sure that the hero's stupid either."

He fell silent again watching the movie for several minutes. Then he said, "He used to say, that is, step-father number two used to say, 'Everybody dies. Sooner or later, one way or another, everybody dies. The only choice you get is, do you die for something or do you just die. Most people just die. But he," Nonnie pointed to the hero perishing on the screen, "chose to die for something."

Chris found himself sitting up and sliding down to sit beside Nonnie on the floor. "A lot of people make that choice," he said quietly.

Nonnie turned to look at him, for the first time since he'd sat down. "I'm not sure that I have the courage to." Tears ran unchecked down his face.

Without even thinking about it, Chris reached out to gather the boy into his arms, pulling him onto his lap and rocking him as he wept.

Glancing up he saw Vin, standing in the open doorway watching them, but the other teen made no move to interfere. He stayed where he was and let Chris be the one to comfort Nonnie this time.

Chris stoked the silky hair, running his fingers through the waves. "You aren't alone and we'll do everything we can to keep you safe. Not just me but all of team seven. I know you don't trust the others but you can. I swear you can. Buck can be an asshole but he's a good man and he'd never hurt you or let anyone else hurt you. Josiah thinks you're something special and JD, he, well, he's young and eager to get Stephen's killer. It's the first time he's had to face losing a friend on the line. Nathan," he couldn't help chuckling softly, "it would really help, if you could make his handcuffs reappear. He still hasn't found them. But even if you don't he'd never let a kid get hurt if he could prevent it, any kid."

He continued to hold the boy, rocking him until he had cried himself out and his breathing even out.

When he knew Nonnie was asleep, he looked up at Vin in the doorway, silently asking him to help him up.

Vin came and helped him stand up still holding Nonnie. Once he got his balance, he carried the boy up the stairs and tucked him into bed.

Vin immediately lay down beside Nonnie. He looked up at Chris. [You did good, Cowboy.]

[I hope it was good enough.] Chris stood a moment longer looking down at them then walked out, closing the door behind him.

He stood a long moment leaning back against the closed door as a slow certainty seeped through him. For the first time he really believed, that Nonnie truly thought he would be killed, if he came forwards to identify Stephen's killer. Always before he had held a sliver of doubt that Nonnie really knew something that could get him killed, something other than what Stephen Travis' killer looked like.

The earlier conversation echoed in his mind.

'How many step-fathers have you had?'

'Too many. At least one too many... maybe two too many.'

'At least one too many.'

A shiver went through him. [One too many step-fathers. One too many because one wanted him dead? Which one? And how do I find him?]

Vin was up and around, when Chris got up to do chores before work. He gave Chris a knowing look and told him that he could do the chores alone if he wanted to head into the office.

Chris gave him a long look back then nodded.

Nonnie was still deeply asleep when Chris headed for the office at five thirty in the morning.

Much as he hated to do it, as soon as he hit the city limits, he rang JD's cell phone. When the computer expert answered he said, "It's Chris. I need you to come on in. I may have something."

"On Stephen's killer?"

"Not directly. On Nonnie. A clue to who might be after him."

"Who?" JD demanded, suddenly wide-awake.

"One of his step-fathers. Grab a shower and some breakfast and head on in. That'll give me time to have the search parameters ready for you when you get there."

By the time JD arrived at the office, Chris had a short list of search parameters for him.

JD looked down at it. "This isn't much to go on, Chris. A criminal, probably violent, with a fifteen year old step-son... as of a year ago... just starting to get into the gun running business."

"Nonnie wouldn't be so scared if the man wasn't a major player, maybe into drugs or something along that line a year ago. Start with the DEA database and the FBI one. Cross-reference it with new players in our database, anyone that has gotten into gun running in the last two years. Check for anyone that married between one and two years ago. Eliminate anyone whose new bride didn't have a male child. Bring me the files on anyone that had a male step-child..." he paused then said, "Nonnie claims he's almost seveneen, which would have made him almost sixteen a year ago, but just to be on the safe side, search for anyone with a male step-child between the ages of fourteen and seventeen. Use all the computers you need."

When the others came in at eight, JD had searches running on everyone's computer except Chris and Nathan's.

"We got something, Old Dog?" Buck propped his hip on Chris' desk as he asked the question.

Chris leaned back in his chair. "Maybe."

"About Stephen?"

"Not directly."

"What then?" Buck demanded his voice rising.

"Nonnie talked to me last night."

"Damned kid talks all the time." Buck snapped.

"Not to me he doesn't. Not one on one and sure as hell not about anything serious."

"But last night he talked to you about something serious?" Josiah asked, his voice eager.

Chris leaned forwards to talk look at Josiah as he said, "Not only that, but he came to me."

He looked up at Buck, "I was watching that old war movie that I love, where the kid sacrifices himself for his buddy. Nonnie came and sat down on the floor beside the couch, just before the climatic death scene and started talking to me. At first it was just to say that he bet I was one of those who got all misty eyed over the hero's sacrifice. Then he said something about one of his stepfathers loving the movie too. He said he'd always thought that the hero was stupid to die for his friend, but his stepfather had said that 'everybody dies, sooner or later, one way or another, everybody dies and while most just die, a few choose to die for something, like the hero of the movie."

Buck snorted, "Great! He thinks heroes are stupid. That's really good news."

"No!" Chris snapped, standing to grab Buck's arm as the big man started to move away from the desk in disgust. "Listen to me! He said that he *used* to think that heroes were stupid. Now he's not so sure, but he's also not so sure that he has that kind of courage."

"Yes!" Josiah shouted, pumping his fist in the air. "Hallelujah!"

"Josiah, what are you so happy about? He still hasn't decided to give us the description," Nathan paused to look at Chris, "has he?"

"No, not yet."

"But he's thinking about it, brothers. He is seriously thinking about it. To say he doesn't know if he has that kind of courage is to say that he is seriously considering putting himself at risk."

"That don't explain what JD is searching for." Buck said.

"JD is looking for the man that Nonnie believes intends to kill him slowly and painfully."

"You know who it is?"

"I don't have a name. If I did, we'd be looking at the files now."

"So."

"I'm convinced it's one of Nonnie's stepfathers. When he mentioned his stepfather last night he referred to him as stepfather number two. I naturally asked just how many stepfathers he had and he replied 'Too many. At least one too many... and maybe two too many.' Since he hit the streets about a year ago, according to what he said about the list being a year old, I figure that the 'one stepfather too many' is the stepfather he had a year ago. JD is searching for a known criminal who approximately a year ago had recently acquired a stepson around fifteen years old. He's cross-referencing it with criminals who have moved into the gun running business in the last two years because Nonnie said that the man had just started running guns."

"What good is finding him going to do?" Nathan asked.

"Nonnie needs something to bolster his courage, a reason to believe that we will do everything we can to protect him. If we find the man that is threatening him, and show Nonnie that we are willing to stand up against him to protect Nonnie, then maybe he will find the courage to give us the description of Stephen's killer."

"Jesus, it's a long shot." Buck said.

"The only other thing we can do is to just sit and wait for Nonnie to decide on his own. This way at least we're doing something." Chris said.

"And most of the time when you must choose between doing nothing or doing something, doing something is the right choice." Josiah said solemnly.

Buck and Nathan exchanged looks, then headed back to work.

Nathan looked back at Chris and Josiah, as he sat down at his desk. "You're right. It certainly can't hurt to try and find the guy. Anybody that would scare a kid that bad...." He let it trail off.

Chris and Josiah smiled at him. Josiah came and patted his shoulder before, saying. "I'm going to hit the streets, see what I can hear."

It was shortly after one o'clock. The computer search was still running. JD hadn't found anything that he thought was promising although the computer had been printing out files for him all morning. Josiah had just returned with lunch for every one and to announce that there still was nothing on the street about who had killed Stephen Travis or who had been behind it.

Then Chris looked up to see Vin standing in the doorway with another boy. A guard from the lobby stood behind them.

For a moment he didn't recognize the other boy, then his eyes widened as he realized that the boy was Nonnie. His hair had been cut and he was neatly dressed in blue jeans and a western shirt that Chris recognized as belonging to Vin.

Chris stood up and walked towards the boys.

The guard gestured towards Vin. "Kid says they're your foster sons?"

Chris nodded, "Thank you for escorting them up."

The guard hesitated, but when Chris glared at him he retreated.

Getting a closer look at Nonnie, Chris could see that he was as pale as a ghost. Reaching out a hand to touch the boy's shoulder, he saw that Nonnie was clutching a laptop computer tightly to his chest.

"Nonnie, are you all right?" He knelt in front of the boy, his eyes filled with concern.

"Ez-ra." Nonnie corrected him through chattering teeth. "M-my name is Ezra. Ezra P-Patrick S-Standish. My mother is Maude Anne Vanderbilt, Standish, van Halsen, Piedmont, Simpson, Eldrick, von Stryker."

"von Stryker? As in Hemlinch von Stryker?" Chris gasped.

Ezra nodded. "She married him on June fourteenth, two thousand and one."

Chris couldn't help the shock that showed on his face, "von Stryker is---"

Ezra cut him off, "Filthy, stinking rich. Mother has made a lucrative career of marrying well and divorcing better. Sometimes a prospective husband's bank account, if large enough, can blind her to his, shall we call them, less than stellar character traits."

"He's also suspected of drug dealing, running prostitution rings, gun running, murder for hire and list of other crimes, longer than my arm."

"The operative word is suspected. He has never been charged, let alone convicted." Ezra swayed, looking as if he might pass out. He suddenly thrust the computer into Chris' hands. "This is his."

Chris passed it back to JD with barely a glance. "Nathan. I think we may need smelling salts here."

Ezra pulled away from him, indignation clear on his face. "We do not! I refuse to swoon like some dainty debutante!"

Buck started to open his mouth but Ezra threw him a glare worthy of Chris and snarled. "Don't you even think it!"

Buck took a quick step back, then caught Vin grinning at him, amusement sparking in his blue eyes.

Josiah pushed passed Buck and grabbed a chair, bringing it around behind Ezra, "Have a seat son, and I'll get you a drink."

He almost choked when Ezra sat and replied, "A double Scotch straight up would be deeply appreciated." The teen looked straight at Nathan Jackson when he added, "For my nerves."

Josiah looked at Nathan. "A small whiskey wouldn't hurt him... but with water, not straight up."

Ezra rolled his eyes, but when Josiah returned with a small glass filled with pale golden liquid he took it. After taking a swallow, he groaned. "God, I hate watered down liquor!"

"Be glad you're getting *any* liquor... and don't plan on making a habit of it." Chris snapped at him.

Ezra rolled his eyes again, and looked up at Vin, "Lord, parents that give a damn are a pain," but he was smiling when he looked back at Chris. "And you do care, don't you? You truly, honestly care... and that makes all the difference."

"All the difference in the world." Vin agreed. Then he stepped around Ez, holding out a sketchpad to Chris. "Ez done these."

"The two loose ones are the men that knocked me down that day. The others I did while at von Stryker's. I found it interesting that one of those men has been at my stepfather's house."

Chris took the sketchpad and pulled the two loose pages out. He glanced up sharply at the boys. "Are you sure about this?" He demanded. "These men are cops!"

Ezra shrank back from the anger in Chris' voice.

Vin immediately moved closer and put an arm around Ezra's shoulder.

Ezra leaned into him for a moment, then straightened. "I know. That was one of the reasons that I was hesitant to give you the description." His voice turned bitter, "I knew you wouldn't believe me. The thin blue line and all that crap, like cops can't be on the take. Those two spend plenty of time in the district. Harassing the homeless, rousting hookers for freebies, collecting payoffs from drug dealers to look the other way...."

He squared his shoulders and thrust his jaw out defiantly. "You wanted to know who killed your friend. Now you know. A couple of cops did it! You don't want to believe it? Fine! Let'm walk!"

He glared at Chris.

Vin added his glare to Ezra's.

Chris rolled his eyes. They weren't really his but they seemed to have somehow inherited the Larabee glare.

"I didn't say that I don't believe you," he protested. "It just means that we're going to have to have more than just your unsupported word to get a conviction... and we're going to have to be real careful who we let in on what we're doing." He paused to call over to JD, "What have you got on von Stryker?"

"Plenty. I'm printing it." JD replied.

"See if you can get into Denver PD records and pull everything you can on a couple of Vice cops, Anderson and Darby, while you're at it."

Buck looked over at Chris, "Why?"

Chris turned the sketches that Ezra had given him around so that they others could see. "Because Ezra says they're our shooters."

"Shit!" Nathan swore. "That complicates things."

"That it does." Josiah confirmed.

Chris could only nod. It also meant that it was a good thing that he'd chosen to make the kids disappear from the system when he had. The only people who knew that the kids had been picked up were ATF agents and only the people in this room and Orrin Travis knew what had become of them. He silently thanked god that the two suspects were Denver PD. There wasn't any love lost between DPD and the ATF so it was unlikely that the two cops knew that the boys had been brought in, let alone that Ezra could ID them.

He looked back at the boys. "Ezra," he began carefully, "I'm not questioning your word, but I have to be sure that you are absolutely certain that these are the men that ran past you that morning and knocked you down."

"They are. I have an eidetic memory." Ezra told him.

"Eide-- Eide what?" Buck asked.

"Photographic," Josiah supplied. "He has a photographic memory."

Nathan had picked up the sketchpad and was looking through it, "And he can draw. I recognize a bunch of these people."

Buck took it from him and flipped through the rest of the pages. Suddenly he stopped and swore. "What the hell is this?" He tossed the sketchpad on the desk in front of Ezra.

Ezra swallowed hard before answering. "Casey. The day we found her...."

The sketch showed a little girl, bound and gagged. A man stood in front of her, his back to the artist, his left hand under girl's dress, his right somewhere in front of him. It didn't take much imagination to know what he was doing. The point of view was above and slightly to the left of the scene.

Ezra reached out and flipped to the last page in the book. The man had turned around and was walking towards the artist. The little girl remained where she was, still bound and gagged, eyes wide with fright. The point of view on this one was straight ahead. The man was clearly walking towards Ezra. His pants were open and his cock hanging out in plain sight. Behind the man, Vin could be seen, creeping towards him, with a length of board in his hands.

The picture was very detailed right down to the leering look on the man's face and the cold anger and determination on Vin's face.

Josiah stepped up for a better look at the sketch. He looked at Ezra. "What was he seeing?" he asked.

"Me." His voice was totally emotionless. "I had on my shortest skirt, high heels, silk stockings, and a bustier. My blouse was open to the waist and I was pretending to be stoned." Satisfaction entered his voice. "Bastard never knew what hit him. We grabbed Casey and ran."

"She was so scared," Vin said softly. "When we got her untied and the gag off, she latched on to Ez and just hung on."

"Where have you been keeping this stuff?" Chris asked. "You didn't have this sketchpad or computer with you when we picked you up."

"You know we have money...." Vin said.

"And I have a driver's license...." Ezra said.

"How and where did you get a driver's license." Chris demanded.

"I got it right here in Denver. It is not of course in the name of Ezra Standish."

"What name is it in?"

"Miss Patrice Elan St. Claire, age twenty."

"How'd you pass the test?"

"Quite easily actually, although I did have to remove the tester's hand from my knee twice during the actual driving test and threaten to report him the third time he reached for my knee." Ezra said smugly.

"And there weren't any use in going to the trouble of getting a driver's license if we weren't gonna get a vehicle?" Vin asked.

"Don't you have to have a vehicle to take the test?" JD asked.

"We... borrowed one."

"Stole. They stole one." Nathan moaned.

"We most certainly did not! To be guilty of stealing something, the law says you must have intended to permanently deprive the rightful owner of the item. We returned it within an hour, in as good of condition as we found it."

"We even put gas in it." Vin confirmed.

"We have a van, a white panel van, not too old, not too new, very nondescript. There are a thousand exactly like it in the Denver area."

"We used Ez's driving license for ID to rent a self-storage unit and parked the van there. Everything besides what we had on us when you brought us in was there." Vin told them.

Chris looked down at the sketchpad. "Are there more of these?"

Vin shrugged. "Ez sketches everyday. It's sort of like his way of keeping a diary, only with pictures. Heck, he's filled three or four of these since we've been at your place." He frowned. "You *know* he draws...."

Chris nodded. "I know, but I didn't realize how much he drew and I figured he'd show me what he was drawing when he was ready."

"That's why we're here now." Ezra said softly. "You didn't try to force me. You trusted me to do the right thing. Nobody... that is nobody but Vin, has ever trusted me before."

"Chris," JD came to stand near the desk. "We might have a problem..."

"What is it?"

JD handed him a photo. "DEA has von Stryker under surveillance. This was taken yesterday." He handed a photo across to Chris.

Chris looked at it a long moment, turning it over to read the note on the back, then turned it around so Ezra could see it. "Is that your mother?"

Ezra blanched slightly then swore, "Dammit! I sent her the red code! She should have been gone when I was!"

"Red code?"

"I told you that mother marries for money. Well, in between marriages she runs various cons. She sometimes has me help her. We have always had a series of code words, a way of passing messages without anyone suspecting what they actually mean. The red code was a word that we used that meant that we were in imminent danger and to abort and disappear immediately. I called her the day I fled from von Stryker's house. She should have simply dropped whatever she was doing and vanished."

"Wouldn't she have wanted to make sure that you were all right?"

"She knows that I can take care of myself." Ezra said with a shrug. "She should have taken care of herself."

"He mighta got to her before she could get away, Ez. Be holding her against her will." Vin suggested. He picked up the picture. "She sure don't look happy here."

"Mother tends to get that sour look after a few months with any husband. Most of her marriages have lasted less that eighteen months. My father was the only man she remained married to until his death."

"She must have loved him...." Josiah suggested.

Ezra smiled. "I suppose she did. They eloped when she was sixteen. He was a poor boy and the family disapproved but she was already pregnant with me. They ran away and got married. Grandfather never forgave her for marrying beneath her not even when she gave him his only grandson. Father was killed in a car wreck when I was five."

He reached out running his fingers over the picture of his mother, touching her face. "We have to get her away from him."

"But how?" JD asked.

"I could make contact, offer to trade the computer and--" he broke off and then finished with, "for her."

"And what, Ezra?" Chris asked. "What else did you take from von Stryker?"

Ezra looked down, around, anywhere but at Chris.

"Money?" Chris asked, thinking about the money that they had found on Ezra when he had first been brought in.

Ezra looked up at Vin, his eyes questioning.

Vin squeezed his shoulder. "Think you ought to tell them, Ez."

Ezra sighed then looked back at Chris and nodded, saying, "but I only took what was in the safe in his study."

"And just how much money does Hemlinch von Stryker keep in the safe in his study?" Chris asked.

Ezra swallowed hard, looking up at Vin again before whispering, "A quarter million dollars."

"What!" Buck yelped.

"A quarter million dollars." Ezra repeated, his head coming up and his voice louder this time.

"Sweet Jesus!" Josiah gasped.

"And you were living on the streets?" Nathan asked. "Why didn't you get out of Denver?"

"He was looking for me! I couldn't risk the airport or train station or bus terminal or anything, at least not until I could change my appearance enough to not be recognized. Then I met Vin and... and I couldn't reach Mother. She didn't answer at the safe house and I didn't dare go there until she did. I didn't know what to do and I was afraid to leave.... I was afraid something had happened to her but I didn't know how to find out.... I was afraid to call his house. I knew he'd find me if I did.... Then we found Casey and had her to take care of.... I just didn't know what to do.... I didn't know of anybody that we could trust...." He looked up at Chris, "Until you found us." He looked down at his hands. "I had been so scared for so long...."

Vin leaned over and wrapped his arms around Ezra. "It's gonna be all right, Ez. We'll get your ma out and everything will be all right." He looked up at Chris, his eyes pleading with him to make it so.

Ezra looked up at Chris too, hope and trust in his eyes.

Chris nodded. "We'll figure something out."

Ezra straightened, "The best way is for me to call Mother's cell phone. If he is holding her against her will he will have it and answer, demanding that I return his computer and money or Mother will suffer the consequences."

"I can't put you at risk like that Ezra." Chris said.

"I'm already at risk. I've been at risk since the day I ran from him."

"Maybe you should tell us exactly what happened the day that you ran away." Josiah said.

Ezra looked around at them all, before finally nodding. He gripped Vin's hand tightly as he began. "It became apparent almost immediately after they returned from their honeymoon that my new stepfather was more interested in me than in Mother, if you know what I mean."

"He wanted to have sex with you?" Josiah asked just to make sure that there was no misunderstanding.

"Yes. At first he tried bribing me. He bought me expensive gifts and paid me a lot of attention, until I made it clear that I wasn't interested in being anything more than just his stepson. Then he became more aggressive. The day it happened, Mother had gone shopping. I came home from school and he had sent most of the servants out. He called me to his study. Everyone knew not to disturb him when he was in his study. No one was allowed in there unless he specifically ordered them to come in, not even his bodyguard."

He stopped, looking down at his hands where his fingers were twined with Vin's, then went on. "He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, apparently he'd been working with it. When I came in he stood up, folded the screen down on the computer and told me to shut the door. I hesitated. I'm not sure why, but I think that on some level, I knew what he was planning to do, that this was it. He came around the desk and closed the door himself, locking it. I started backing away, certain then of what was about to happen. He grabbed me and tried to kiss me. We struggled. He got in some good blows and had me pinned against his desk. I was bent forwards over the desk, the perfect position for his purposes. He was pulling down my pants when I grabbed the laptop and twisted, slamming him up side the head with it. He staggered back and I hit him again and again until he went down and stayed down. For a few minutes I just stood there, afraid I'd killed him and afraid I hadn't. Then I realized that I was still holding the laptop and opened it to look at the screen. I could tell he'd been working on some kind of spreadsheet program but that was all I could understand at that point. I closed the computer without logging off or turning it off. I figured it had to be password protected. I knew that I couldn't stay there and dig around in the computer and I didn't want to have to try and hack it to get back in."

He stopped again, "What about the safe? How'd you find it?"

"I knew he had one in there. Whenever he needed money he'd go to the study to get it and I knew I'd need money to get away. It wasn't hard to find... or all that hard to crack. Mother had been teaching me to open safes and it wasn't much of a safe considering what he had in it. I didn't expect to find as much money as I found. I just grabbed all I could, stuffed it into my shirt and let myself out the French doors onto the patio. From there I slipped up to my room, packed some things into my school backpack. I changed the password on the computer so that I could get back in, then slipped out and off the grounds, across the back yard to the woods and across them to street on the far side of them. I walked several blocks before stopping to call a cab, then Mother. I gave Mother the code word and she gave me the code word that meant message received and will comply. The cab came and I had him take me into the city. I got out on a street corner and just walked away."

Chris shook his head. The law had been after Hemlinch von Stryker since before Chris and Buck had left Denver PD to join the ATF five years before. The DEA had been after him for years and a fifteen year old kid just walks off with his laptop computer containing enough evidence to put him away forever and a quarter million dollars of the man's money.

"Chris," Buck said, "we're going to have to coordinate this with the DEA, it's their case. They've been after him for years and we haven't been able to get anything on him as far as gun running goes."

"Who is heading up the team on his case?"

JD checked some files then said, "Somebody named Raphael Cordova de Martinez."

Buck threw an amused look at Chris and Chris grinned back, "Raffy." They said in unison.

"That makes this a lot easier," Chris said, the grin fading to a pleased smile.

"Why?" Nathan asked.

"Chris and Raffy go way back." Buck told them almost gleefully. "They were rival team leaders in the SEALs."

"It was a friendly rivalry, Buck," Chris said. "He was a good friend."

"Was?" It was Ezra who picked up on the past tense.

"We've lost touch, no fault of his." Chris said. Then went on speaking directly to Ezra. "After my wife and son were killed, I, well, I started drinking pretty badly and I lost touch with a lot of people. Raphael was one of them."

Ezra nodded slowly. He knew that Chris had had a wife and child. Their pictures were all over the house but he had never asked about them and Chris had never offered any explanation for their absence. He only knew that they were dead because Vin had asked Chris about them and had told Ezra that Chris was a widower.

"He's a good man. He won't let anything happen to you or your mother. He'll place the lives of the hostages over the glory of bringing von Stryker down." Chris looked back to the rest of team seven. "He also won't let any type rivalry between DEA and ATF get in the way of getting the job done. Neither will I. Understood?"

When the others all nodded their agreement, he stood. "Good. Now, let's get to work. We're going to move this operation out to the ranch. Josiah, take Vin and Ezra, go to that storage facility, get their van and everything else that they have there--"

Ezra interrupted him. "The van is downstairs. We cleaned out the facility and terminated the rental agreement."

Chris gave him a curt nod, "Fine. Then just take it and them out to the ranch. JD, pack up everything that we have on von Stryker and everything else that you think you will need, surveillance equipment and such and get it out to the ranch. Copy his hard drive onto another computer then secure that one for evidence. Buck, check out bulletproof vests all around, including a pair of the smallest we have for the kids."

Buck's eyes snapped open, "You can't mean to let them meet with von Stryker!"

"I don't see that we have any choice. He knows that Ezra has his computer."

"Unless we can make him believe that someone has Ezra *and* the computer." Josiah said thoughtfully.

Chris gave Josiah a thoughtful look. "That's an idea. We'll think about it." Then he turned back to Buck, "Get a couple of bulletproof tarps, as well, and any extra weapons that you think we might need. Nathan, you know the drill, medical supplies, etc."

The big medic nodded.

"I'll call Martinez and clear our working from the ranch with Orrin. Everybody get there as quickly as you can."

He stood and started out, then turned back. "One more thing. Only very good friends get away with calling Raphael Martinez, 'Raffy'. Understood?"

The others all nodded.

Raphael Cordova de Martinez parked his black Dodge Ram next to the other black Dodge Ram in Chris Larabee's yard. He didn't have to think about it to know that the Ram was Chris'. They had shared similar tastes in vehicles even as far back as their first meeting. In fact their first meeting had occurred when the two equally drunk Navy SEAL Lieutenants had had a very loud misunderstanding over which of the matching Harley Davidson motorcycles parked in front of the base's Officer's Club belonged to which of them. The bikes had been absolutely identical, even the saddlebags had matched.

Things had changed a bit though. His black Dodge Ram only had four wheels, a regular cab and a short bed. Chris' had the dual back wheels, four wheel drive, full crew-cab, and extra long and wide bed with a full hauling package. It was obviously a work truck, made for doing anything that might need doing on a ranch.

He glanced at the red 1957 Ford pickup parked beside Chris' Ram. That had to be Buck's. It had been Buck who had finally decided which bike was whose for them, demanding Chris' keys and trying it in first one then the other of the bikes. Fortunately the key only fit one of them.

Beyond Buck's truck was a fairly new Ford Explorer in a deep green color. Past it sat an old Suburban that had seen better days. The last vehicle was a nondescript white panel van, that no one would ever give a second glance.

When Chris had called him, asking him to meet him out at his ranch after work, stressing that it was important that he not mention the meeting to anyone he'd done a little checking. He knew that the Ford Explorer belonged to one of Chris' team, Nathan Jackson and the Suburban belonged to another member, Josiah Sanchez, but the van was a complete surprise. He had no idea who it could belong to.

He wasn't surprised that Chris' team seemed to be gathered here. Chris had mentioned the magic words when he'd called: Hemlinch von Stryker.

He was still frowning at the van when Chris stepped out on the porch and called, "You planning on coming in or are you gonna stand there all night?"

Raphael smiled and strode up to the porch mounting the steps two at a time. "Good to see you, also, amigo."

He held out his hand and Chris took it in a firm grip.

"You look much better than the last time that I saw you." He continued as he held Chris' hand for what might have been a minute too long.

"I am much better," Chris confirmed and pulled him into a hug, his voice rough with old emotions as he added, in little more than a whisper, "Raffy."

Raphael hugged back, again holding on for what could have been a moment too long as old emotions flooded through him, the long held memory of holding this man close in the still silence of the night, the memory of stolen moments, stolen touches and stolen kisses.

Then Chris was pulling away and turning to lead him into the house, all business. "Come on. I've got people you need to meet."

Introductions were made, then Raphael pointedly asked what Chris could possibly have found that he and his team hadn't, that would put von Stryker away for good.

Chris grinned and went to the bottom of the stairs calling up then, "Vin! Showtime."

He walked back into the room, stopping beside the doorway.

A moment later a long-haired boy stepped through the door and came to stand beside Chris, but it was the slender boy that entered behind him that immediately captured Raphael's attention.

The teen stood only about five foot six or seven, with dark, curly, auburn hair and startlingly green eyes.

"Madre de Dios!" Raphael gasped. "von Stryker's stepson!" He looked at Chris, "It is, is it not?"

Ezra stepped forwards and held out his hand, "Ezra P. Standish, sir, at your service."

Raphael stepped forward and grasped the hand pumping it. "We've been looking for you for over a year! As has von Stryker. He has put a price on your head..." he paused a moment his eyes narrowing in calculation, "but he wants you alive.... You have something that he wants back."

"Yes. I do." Ezra confirmed.

Chris stepped up behind him laying a hand on his shoulder and guiding him to the couch while he motioned to Raphael to take a seat as well. "It's a long story Raphael."

The boy that Raphael assumed was the Vin that Chris had called to, sat down beside Ezra and Ezra reached for his hand automatically. Raphael nodded slightly, but made no comment.

"Where have you been?" He asked Ezra. "We've been looking for you. Your stepfather has been looking for you. How did you manage to evade everyone for over a year?"

Ezra smiled a rather smug smile. "I rather suspect that you were all looking for a boy... which is why I chose to become a girl. I know for a fact that some of stepfather's men walked right past me on several occasions. I don't know if you've figured it out or not, but between marriages Mother runs a variety of cons. She trained me to play whatever part she assigned me from the time I could walk and talk. I've played the darling daughter before when a son would have been an inconvenience, but a daughter would farther her plans."

By the time that Raphael left, well after midnight, they had a plan in place. He wasn't really happy with it but it seemed the most straightforward way of establishing that the computer did indeed belong to von Stryker.

It was up to him to sell it to his team and his AD. The AD might be the easiest sell. He was almost obsessed with getting von Stryker.

While his team wouldn't be happy either, most of them would do what he decided on. It was his second in command, Inez Rocillios that had him worried. The idea of letting a teenaged boy walk into such a dangerous situation wouldn't sit well with her at all, not even a boy as obviously intelligent, street smart and determined as the Standish boy was.

She was going to take his head off and hand it to him.

Three days later they were ready to go. Raphael's team had been introduced to Chris' team. AD Orrin Travis of the ATF had met with AD Virgil Watson of the DEA. Both AD's had interviewed Ezra Standish, emerging from the interview looking somewhat shell-shocked, but agreeing to his playing his role in the sting, although they had insisted on stringent measures to protect him.

Inez still wasn't happy, but after a discussion with Ezra, during in which he had suggested that her objections against his participating could be used to make a case against her participating, she had finally thrown up her hands and said that if he insisted on putting himself at risk and the powers that be agreed to allow it she couldn't stop him.

Now it was showtime.

Ezra, dressed in a short, red leather skirt, fishnet hose, high-heeled boots, a white silk blouse and a heavy, fringed, red leather, western-style jacket with his face made up like a china doll's and his short hair spiked and streaked with color, wearing sunglasses and several pairs of earrings, was in a phone booth in the district near the warehouse where Stephen Travis had been killed.

Josiah Sanchez, dressed in ragged clothes and looking every inch the hard drinking nar-do-well was in the booth with him, his broad frame shielding Ezra from the street.

He lay a gentle hand on the back of Ezra's neck. "Time to do it, son." He said quietly. To a passerby the hand could easily be seen as threatening.

Ezra nodded and took a deep breath, licking his lips as he prepared to play the role of his life. His 'scene' as he thought of it was a short one. Just a few words then Josiah would take the phone and the sting would be on.

He dialed his mother's cell phone number. They were counting on her not having changed it and on von Stryker, having the phone.

In Hemlinch von Stryker's mansion, everything stopped as the cell phone that he kept nearby at all times began to ring. He looked over at his wife, whom he also kept close by at all times, except at night when she slept in a separate room under heavy guard. Her cursed son had cracked his safe at fifteen years old and eluded his search for more than a year. He wasn't taking any chances with her.

"Answer it." He said shoving the phone into her hands.

She hesitated but the phone kept ringing. She flipped it open and said, "Hello?" hoping against hope that it wasn't Ezra even though she knew that he was the only one with the number of the cell.

"Blue skies." The code meant that he had a plan. "Give him the phone."

She closed her eyes and breathed his name in a despairing moan, "Ezra, my darlin--"

She was cut off as von Stryker grabbed the phone.

"Where are you, you little bastard?" he snarled into the phone.

A deep rumbling laugh answered him. "Well, now," a deep voice rumbled, "I heard tell ya'd pay well to get this pretty little boy back. Guess I heard right."

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"Who I am don't matter none. Ain't like I'll take a check. What I want is half a mill, cash, small bills, non-sequential serial numbers. Straight trade. I get the money. You get the kid."

"The reward I offered was ten thousand dollars."

"Uh-huh, but that was a year ago... inflation you know. Besides I bet you're even more interested in the computer I found him with than you are in him." Again there was that deep rumbling laugh but this time it was followed by a coughing fit.

He thought a moment, his eyes going to his bodyguards. He could agree to anything, but that didn't mean he had to keep the deal. When he got his hands on the boy and the computer, he could kill the man that delivered them and make the boy tell him where his money was before having the satisfaction of killing the little bastard.

"All right. Bring them to---"

"No! I choose the meeting place... and you come alone. Just you, me and the boy." Josiah demanded.

It was a calculated risk, that von Stryker might not bring Ezra's mother with him, but not too big of one. She hadn't been out of his sight in over a year according to the surveillance tapes and photos. There was also the fact that he would most likely plan to use her to force Ezra to tell him where the money was.

Picking the place was the only thing that Josiah really wanted to get. Both teams knew perfectly well that von Stryker wouldn't come alone. At the very least he would bring a couple of bodyguards but knowing where the trade would take place would make it easier to cover Ezra.

"Fine. When and where?" von Stryker demanded.

Josiah gave him the address of an abandoned warehouse that the ATF had confiscated after a bust just a few weeks before. It was empty and they were already set up there.

"In an hour," he added.

"An hour's not much time to get that much cash."

"Don't try shitting me. Men like you keep plenty of cash lying around. An hour or I take the kid and the computer to the cops."

Hemlinch von Stryker swore, but agreed. No way could he risk his computer falling into the hands of the cops.

Everything was set at the warehouse.

Buck was waiting in the rafters, with a sniper rifle, as was Chanu Whitehorse, Raphael's team sniper. Between the two of them they could cover the entire open area of the warehouse.

JD had surveillance cameras set up and would be a van half a block away monitoring them along with Raphael's surveillance expert, Rafe Mosely.

Chris, Raphael, Inez and Terry Greer, Raphael's undercover agent, would be inside the warehouse, concealed and waiting for von Stryker to arrive.

Nathan would be with Josiah, driving the white van that belonged to the boys.

Vin would be in the surveillance van with JD and Rafe Mosely. He didn't like it. He wanted to go into the warehouse with Josiah and Ezra, but the van was as close as Chris would let him get. He hadn't even wanted to let him be there at all, but both boys had been adamant that Vin had to be close by.

Seeing how nervous Ezra got when Vin wasn't close by had convinced Chris and Raphael to let Vin stay in the van with JD and Rafe. They couldn't afford to have Ezra go to pieces in the middle of the operation.

As soon as he hung up the phone Josiah spoke into his wire, "You get all that, JD?"

"Loud and clear," JD replied through Josiah's earphone.

Both Josiah and Ezra were wearing wires. When they went into the warehouse, they, along with Nathan, would all be wearing bulletproof vests as well as the wires. Josiah and Nathan's vests would be easy to conceal.

Protecting Ezra hadn't been as easy until Terry had given them the red-leather skirt and jacket for him to wear. She had had the outfit special made to wear undercover and both the skirt and jacket were completely bulletproof, containing a double layer of the newest, lightest, most effective bulletproof material on the market concealed between the leather and the lining of the outfit.

Nathan parked the white van right on his mark on the warehouse floor. The position made it easy for both Buck and Chanu Whitehorse to cover them and would force von Stryker to park in the area that they wanted him, putting him and his men under Buck's and Chanu's guns. Nathan still wasn't really happy about Chris' decision to use Ezra in the sting, even with him and Josiah right there with the kid, even though Ezra had seemed to calm down and now acted as professional as any of the adults about the upcoming sting.

Josiah checked the time and climbed out of the van, dragging Ezra with him by the arm just in case some of von Stryker's men might be watching.

Ezra stumbled out of the van, clutching the laptop to his chest as if he were dazed or hurt. Inez and Terry had used makeup to make it appear that he had a major black eye and a busted lip. He stumbled, moving like he was bruised and battered as he and Josiah got into position.

Josiah kept one hand on the back of his neck and Ezra stood on his mark with his head bowed and shoulders slumped, looking for all the world like a frightened child.

JD did one last sound check on the wires then there was nothing to do but wait for von Stryker.

He arrived ten minutes before the hour was up in a long black limo.

Nathan emerged from the van to stand beside the open side door as the limo drew to a stop.

Hemlinch von Stryker stepped out, dragging Maude Standish with him by her arm.

Ezra, reacting as he thought he ought, surged forwards crying out, "Mother!" only to be jerked back by the hand on his neck as Josiah also played his role.

"Thought I said, come alone!" Josiah snarled at von Stryker.

The drug dealer gave him a condescending look, "You're not alone. Besides, You certainly didn't actually think that 'a man like me' would come alone, did you?" He smiled evilly. "I thought the boy might like to see his mother one last time."

He signaled and suddenly two more cars screeched into the warehouse, blocking the van. Armed men poured out of them, surrounding the two men and the boy beside the van.

"Send the boy and the computer to me now!"

"Now, wait just a minute," Josiah started to bluster.

The men surrounding them cocked their guns.

"Now!" von Stryker demanded again.

Josiah felt Ezra shift slightly forwards and with a grimace, as if he were disgusted with himself for not realizing that von Stryker would bring plenty of help, he released his hold on Ezra's neck and let him stumble forwards.

Ezra staggered slightly, making it look like Josiah had shoved him. The stagger took him out of a straight line between Josiah and von Stryker. He continued towards von Stryker, weaving slightly more to his right with every step until when he neared von Stryker he was far enough to von Stryker's left that the man had to turn half away from Maude to look at him.

When von Stryker did, Maude made her move. She stepped towards him, gaining slack in the hold he had on her arm and pivoted clockwise on her left foot bringing her right foot around to strike at the back of his right knee, buckling it.

At the same time she moved, Ezra moved to strike on the other side. Shifting his hold on the laptop computer he had been carrying he turned, pivoting on his right foot, turning counterclockwise and bringing the laptop around in a roundhouse swing hitting von Stryker in the back of the head as von Stryker's knee buckled and he swayed backwards. The momentum of Ezra's swing combined with the momentum of von Stryker's fall when the computer met his skull. The drug dealer went down like he'd been poleaxed.

Maude didn't wait to see if Ezra had done his part. She knew he would. She just dove for the floor and slithered under the heavy bulletproof limo that they had arrived in, the instant she was free of von Stryker's grip on her arm.

Ezra followed a split second later.

The drug dealer's thugs had hesitated just an instant when Maude and Ezra made their moves because they were both too close to von Stryker for the men to get clear shots at them without hitting their boss.

But with von Stryker down, and Maude and Ezra vanished under the limo, the men opened fire on the two men beside the van.

Josiah and Nathan, dove for the cover of the van and grabbed their guns returning fire as Buck and Chanu began laying down cover fire from the rafters and Chris, Raphael, Inez and Terry popped up from their hiding places behind various crates and added their gunfire to the melee.

The limo driver decided that discretion was the better part of valor and drove off, knocking one of the two cars that the other thugs had come in, out of his way as he fled the scene.

Josiah saw him and thinking that Ezra and his mother no longer had any cover grabbed up one of the bulletproof tarps from the floor of the van and shouted, "Cover me!"

Wrapping the tarp around himself, he charged through the hail of gunfire towards where he had last seen Ezra and his mother.

Buck and Chanu seeing Josiah rushing across the floor wrapped in the tarp lay down a withering cover fire.

Nathan, seeing that Josiah was covered, slammed the side door of the van shut, climbed over in the driver's seat and quickly gunned the motor, taking off after the limo.

Ezra and Maude had not remained under the limo, though. They had slid under it, out the other side and found a nearby steel support beam to put between them and the main portion of the gunfire. They were standing up behind it, Maude's back to it and Ezra pressed tightly against her, the bulletproof jacket that Terry had given him to wear pulled up to cover as much of them as possible.

Maude's arms were around his waist holding him tightly, as she wept with relief that they were all right and fear that they might not remain so.

Ezra had just informed her that the jacket he was covering their heads with and the skirt that he was wearing were bulletproof when they were pressed even tighter to the support post as Josiah located them and wrapped his bulletproof tarp around all three of them and the support post.

It was all over in a matter of seconds.

More than a dozen of the thugs were down, half of them dead, the rest wounded. Hemlinch von Stryker still lay unconscious where he had fallen when Ezra hit him with the laptop. The agents were rounding up the rest.

JD and Rafe in the surveillance van had called for back up. JD was practically sitting on Vin trying to keep him from getting out of the van and going into the warehouse, when first the limo then Vin and Ezra's white van tore past them.

Both surveillance experts swore. They would have loved to join the pursuit but knew perfectly well that if they left their station, especially with Vin in the van, their bosses would rip them a new one.

As Vin swore and struggled to get away and in to where Ezra was, JD and Rafe swapped looks.

"Being a pro means doing your job even when somebody else gets to do all the exciting stuff!" They said in unison.

JD fixed Vin with a look, "Now, calm down. You'll see Ezra as soon as we get the all clear."

Inside the warehouse, Josiah cocked his head as the guns fell silent. Moving the tarp enough that he could see around the support beam he grinned. It looked like the good guys had won, but he waited for the all clear.

One by one all the ATF team checked in. Since it was a DEA operation each of member of team seven checked in with Martinez.

Chris waited for Nathan to check and when he didn't sent a general call for information on his whereabouts. It was JD who informed them that Nathan was in hot pursuit of the limo. Rafe confirmed it to his boss.

Since Nathan was no longer in the warehouse and everyone else had checked in Martinez gave the all clear.

Josiah, Maude and Ezra emerged from behind the support beam. Josiah beaming stupidly at Maude.

Ezra rolled his eyes muttering, "And another one bites the dust." Walking up to Chris he asked, "May I be dismissed to join Vin in the van?"

Chris nodded, waving him away. "Sure... just stay there. Okay?" 

"Certainly, Mister Larabee." Ezra smiled then as he walked away he turned and called, "By the way, should Mister Jackson, not return my van in the condition he found it, someone will be paying for it!"

Chris shook his head and walked over to one of the police units so that he could listen in on the radio between the police cars backing Nathan up in the pursuit. It was a long twenty minutes before the final call came over the radio indicating that the chase had ended.

A few minutes later, Nathan called Chris on his cell phone to tell him about the capture.

"Chris! You won't believe who was in the car! The passenger was Detective Anderson! He came out shooting when the limo crashed... and he's dead, but the driver's in custody. We can tie Anderson directly to von Stryker!"

A search of Anderson's apartment turned up paperwork that tied him and Darby to von Stryker and a tape recording of von Stryker ordering the hit on Stephen Travis.

EPILOGUE

Seventeen months later

"Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday dear Ezraaaaaaa!
Happy birthday to you!"

The chorus was loud and enthusiastic, if not entirely tuneful, but Ezra Standish wasn't complaining. He was eighteen years old and life was good.

He stood in front of the long, heavily laden table and blinked back tears, which he blamed entirely on the smoky birthday candles on his cake. Or possibly the smoke rising from the three, (Not one, not two but count them, three!) barbecue grills behind him, where Josiah Sanchez would soon be grilling a variety of meats and vegetables for the crowd. And Lord! What a crowd it was that had gathered to celebrate this momentous occasion.

Vin stood beside him, his arm around Ezra's waist as the song ended and little Casey Wells shouted, "Make a wish!" from the other end of the table where she stood on her seat next to her grandmother.

He blinked again, "Good Lord," he declared, "I have no idea what to wish for. I have everything I have ever wanted and more."

Vin leaned close and whispered in his ear.

Ezra blushed furiously and whispered back, nearly choking with embarrassment. "I don't think *that* is the kind of wish they mean. Besides, I'd better not *need* to wish for that as I have every intention of receiving it!"

"Well, blow out the candles anyhow so we can get this show on the road!" Buck called from his seat half way down, beside Inez Rocillios, soon to be Mrs. Buck Wilmington, after over a year of hot pursuit by the infamous ladies man.

Laughing Ezra looked at Vin, "Help me, beloved?"

"Always," Vin grinned back at him.

Together they bent down and blew out all the candles.

At the far end of the table, Chris sat with Raphael, their chairs pulled close together, Raffy's arm around his shoulders.

Chris sighed and Raphael leaned closer. "What are you thinking about mi amigo?"

"Catalysts, dominoes, and of all things snowballs."

"You are strange, my love."

Chris chuckled and didn't say anything, but he couldn't help the way his mind worked.

Vin and Ezra had been the catalysts for a lot of things. Since the day they had come into his life things had seemed to fall into place like dominoes in a row, while conversely snowballing all out of control.

At eighteen the two boys, who were standing at the other end of the table cutting birthday cake and passing it down the line, were now courtroom veterans having testified in more than one federal trial.

The juries had loved them. Their courtroom image had been perfect. They had projected just the right combination of courage and vulnerability, of street savvy and naiveté.

But they hadn't only been the catalyst that solved three federal crimes, they had also been the catalyst that had brought four couples together. Chris might not have ever renewed his acquaintance with Raphael, if they hadn't had to call in the DEA because von Stryker was their case, let alone become lovers with him again. Likewise Maude and Josiah might not have ever met if the case hadn't gone as it had. The same held true for Buck and Inez and JD and Terry Greer, who had met because of the case. And of course, Casey had been reunited with her grandmother because of them.

He smiled, as Nathan and Rain stood to pass their gift up the table to Ezra. Make that five couples. Although Nathan had met Rain before, after Eban's murder, they had grown closer and were now married.

And of course Vin and Ezra were still very much a couple. Tonight they would spend their first night in the apartment that he had built for them over the garage. He had never asked if they had kept their promise not be intimate until they were both eighteen. After everything that had happened, he had decided that he would just trust them... and truth be told he wouldn't be all that upset if they hadn't. At the very least they had been extremely discreet.

In the fall they would be heading to college. Both were signed up for law enforcement courses. He couldn't help being grateful that they were going to college in Denver so that they could live at home... and they did think of the ranch at home.

He leaned deeper into Raphael's side.

Life was good.

The End.